Ten years. It’s hard to believe it’s been that long since I first moved to Boston. The night my father and I drove through town, the car packed so tight we couldn’t see out the back window, I remember how struck I was by this city; how beautiful it was, despite the frigid wind and piles of snow. As we made our way down Commonwealth Avenue, which looked majestic decorated with white lights, I knew this was a place I could call home.
There are a number of moments that have had an impact on my life, but it’s hard to think of anything more profound than my move to Boston. This city has challenged me and embraced me. Without it, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I know, I’m sounding totally sentimental. And if only you could see me now, holding a tissue, dabbing tears from my eyes.